Decatur Democrat, Volume 37, Number 3, Decatur, Adams County, 7 April 1893 — Page 7

Ihis first case and last. ■ The Story of a Young Barrister, Written I * ' for This Paper. a BY SYDNEY GRUNDY.

■', CHAPTKR nr. 1 ■ Victor D’Aubry got rapidly over me j ■ few miles between Caen and the Count ’ ■de Chauvannes’ estate. The faithful < H animal know that road well, and knew 1 ■> moreover that his master was always in I H a hurry when ho wont in that direction, i Hi "When the servant op< nod the door ot . ■ the drawing-room to him Victor stood i H for a moment on the threshold, unde- ; H elded, racked with terrible anguish. His < H legs seemed to give way under him, and I ■ he felt as if ho would drop senseless, < ■ Near the window sat Count de ’ H Chauvannes. He raised his head and ] ■ looked at Victor with a listloss air. i H> "Tell mademoiselle that Monsieur 1 ■ D’Aubry is hero," said he, beckoning to ; ■ the servant. Victor heid up his hand H for the servant to stop. “There is no ■ necessity to disturb mademoiselle," he H Bald. “I must even ask you not to tell j ■ her that lam here. I wish to speak to , ■ you alone, monsler.” ■ r The Count looked at the young man ■ in surprise, but Victor protended not to ■ notice it. “Monsieur,” he begun, “the M matter that brings mo here to-day is ■ very eefious. I have resolved to apply | ■ for a new trial for a man who was con- , ■ vlcted twenty years ago, and who main- : ■ tains that ho is innocent. You know the I man —you gave him a character at the . ■ trial." H. ] "What was the individual’s name? H asked the Count, listlessly examining ■ his finger tips. ■ ; “Michel Gouillard!” ■ f Victor hud sat down with his back to ■ the light, so as to let the last rays of H the sinking sun fall upon the Count’s ■ face. He looked at him intently as he H pronounced the man’s name. ■ < The Count did not budge, not a mus- ■ oleos his face moved. “Oh, yes,” he ■ said, “I remember, ft is a very old' ■ Story indeed, my dear D’Aubry, and ■ assuredly the poor devil was guilty.” H > “Then you really do believe in the ■ man's guilt?" ■ “Why, he admitted it hiniFelf,” urged ■ the Count “And come to think, it was ■ your father who wrung the confession ■ from him. I recommend you to let that ■ sad matter rest. There is no chance of ■ reversing the verdict." H , “I do not think so," replied Victor, in H? a grave tone ot voice. "Gouillard ini' slots that he has proof of his innocence. I 'But lam not particularly anxious to I .take up the affair, and if you really I think there is no chance of a favorable I issue I will tell the man to go and see I one of my colleagues. ” I The Count fixed his cold and piercing I glance on Victor's mind as if trying to I read his inmost thoughts. That, at any I rate, was the young barrister’s interI 'pretation of the swift, hurried glance. I ' “Look here," said De Chauvannes at I last, “send Gouillard to me. I will I question him and turn him inside out, I and after that I am sure he will not I dare to maintain his innocence. Be- ■ ■ hides, I happen to know certain details I ot the affair which " The Count I stopped short and relapsed into silence. | J “And I, too, Monsieur,” began Victor, I "happen to know certain details which I make Gouillard’s innocence as plain as I daylight to me. It was said that he ■; killed Viscount de Varville because the ■ latter was the lover of his wife. I know I that is false. The woman whom Vls- ■ 'count de Varville was in love with was B not Huguette Gouillard." • I | The Count started from his chair as if K moved by a violent galvanic shock. ■ "And what of that?” he burst Out. I )"What of that, and what more do you I ;know? Speak out! Who was the misI 'tress of the Viscount de Varville?” ■ I Victor hesitated for a moment, and I then rising and meeting the Count's I (terrible look without flinching, he said I qalmly, “It was the Countess De Chau- ■ vannes, Monsieur?” Count De ChauI rvannes received the blow without I drawing a muscle, but a deep pallor I overspread his face. I • “I will say all that I came to say, I ’Monsieur,” continued Victor, solemnly., I j"I have in my possession a letter from I the Countess to Monsieur de Varville. I This letter has been the flash of lightI nlng whereby I read the innocence of I that unfortunate wretch, Gouillard. I “After that I began to cast about for I (the probable author of the Viscount’s I Imurder, of Huguette Gouillard’s death I iby poison, and the evidence pointed I .clearly to one and the same man, which I .man is no one else but you, Monsieur I de Chauvannes." I “Oh, indeed! You came to that conI elusion, Monsieur,” said Chauvannes in I a voice filled with anger, ready to burst I like a thunderclap. I “Do you agree with me now that I I had better give up this case and confide I the documents to another barrister?" I asked Victor. I The Count’s face turned somewhat I more livid still. Suddenly facing I D'Aubry he blurted out: I I “Well, suppose it were so, Monsieur’ I Suppose the Viscount do Varville inflicted the most cruel injury upon me ’SSgr wK I I L X ** > ■WHICH MAK IS KO OKI ILSK BUT YOU.” that one man can inflict upon another, who would dare blame me for my re- , Tenge?” n "But in order to get that revenge you have had a poor woman assassinated, an innocent man thrown into prison ’’ Count de Chauvannes shuddered and turned away his head, but in a moment he had mastered his feelings. "I ask you once more.” said he in a curt and indifferent tone, ‘to send Gouillard to me. I will settle the mischief with him. He wants money; he shall have it! As to my wife, she was unfaithful to me and I punished her lover. But you understand well enough. Monsieur D’ Aubry, that at the very , moment} you are about to marry my daughter, it is your duty to destroy every trace of that sad story. Give me that letter!" “You evidently misunderstand me, Monsieur,"said Victor. "Michel Gouillard does not ask money. He wants his name cleared from dishonor, the ignomy of the convict prison wiped from

Ids brow! I intend to help him; I will iiot be your accomplice. If necessary, I will be your accuser. True, I love your daughter, so much so that 1 would prefer death to giving her up. But there is a voice that speaks louder than even my love. It is the voice of conscience. Monsieur, to an extent I share the responsibility of this terrible crime with you, for my father, smitten with a brain disorder, in his sensbless zeal tortured this poor wretch into a confession of a crime ho never Now you will understand that I hove a duty to perform, and I swear to you that I will not fail to do so. I will give you till to-morrow to determine whet course you intend to pursue.” CHAPTER IV. It was stiYl very early when, on the following morning, a servant camo to announce t> Victor that somebody wished to see him, and to the questioning glance of the young barristot, the man said, in a low voice: “It is Mademoiselle de Chauvannes." »■ “Marcelline!" exclaimed Victor, turning very pale and rushing to the door of the buck stair-case, on which his room opened. A lady closely veiled entered the room quietly, evidently much exhausted, for she dropped into the first chair within her reach. Victor flung himself on his knees before her. He did not dare guess the truth, and still he knew why Marcelline, pale and trembling, had come to him at such an hour. He felt that the Count wanted to play hte last trump, and that he had been base enough to enlist in his defense this pure, chaste soul. Marcelline made an effort to master the emotion that shook her whole frame. She ’flung her arms around Victor’s neck, and with a voice broken with sobs, murmured: “Oh, Victor, Victor! I know everything. ” “What!" he exclaimed, “your father has told you ” “Everything," replied Marcelline, “everything.” “But it can’t be.” said Victor, revolting at the idea. “I tell you he has been absolutely pitiless; my dearest recollections, my most cherished affections, my modesty as a young girl, he trampled everything under feet. You may well pride yourself on what you have done. Y'ou have killed me.” And she dropped her head on her breast .with a gesture of harrowing despair, while her sobs welled forth ■ again as they did during the whole of the night. Victor stood like one petrified, dumbstricken, finding no word of comfort for her. But gradually the storm that was sweeping overMareellinc soon subsided, and Victor made haste to console and comfort her with the assurance of his love and devotion. “You are kind,” she murmured, “to try and soothe the terrible pain he caused me; now be kind to the end and give up this fatal idea of involving my father in this trial. ” “But. Marcelline, you know that one innocent man has been convicted in his stead." “Oh, if you love tpe,” she murmured, “would you fling my life, my future, in the scale against the interests of a stranger, whom the merest accident brought to your door?” “I see, Marcelline," replied Victor gravely, “that your father has not told you everything. ’’ And then he told her of the part his own father had executed in the drama. He pointed out to her that he would be the basest of men and unworthy of her affections if he refused to aid the poor wretch who had come to ask him for it “Besides, can you not see that it is in your and my father’s interests that I must undertake this case? If I refuse he will consult another lawyer,who will assuredly not have the same motives in conducting the case cautiously. Your mother's name ” “Stop! stop! Victor, sny no more! My poor mother,” sobbed the young girl. . , “You-see, therefore, that we must avoid such a scandal at any cost," said Victor gently, but firmly. “And, in order to do this, he who is most guilty must sacrifice himself.” “Whatdo you mean?" “I mean this, Marcelline,” exclaimed Victor solemnly,“your father had an accomplice; you know her at least by sight—Jeannette, ‘The Hag’ they call her. The creature is devoted to him, body and soul. The brunt of the charge will probably recoil on her —I mean the poisoning of Huguette. Your father will only have to answer for the death of Viscount de Varville, and the extenuation of the deed will be found in hie wrath at the injury done him. We will find a barrister who will conduct the defense in that sense, and who will keep your mother’s name as much as possible out of the ease. Tell him all this, tell him instead of laying the blame at my door, ho ought to thank Heaven that the case fell into my hands." “But the sacrifice you named?” “Is that the Count de Chauvannes shall instantly quit France.” “And that the Count de Chauvannes will never do! ’’ exclaimed that gentleman pushing open the door where he had been listening, and striding into the room. 4 . “Father!” gasped Marcelline, turning whiter than the gown that she wore. “Yes, your father,” blurted out the Count, “come to accompany you home. And as for you, sir,” he continued, facing Victor with flashing eye. “from this day forward everything is at an end between you and this young lady. From this day forward, you will not set eyes on her again. If you make the slightest attempt to speak to her, if you attempt to enter my park or my house, I will shoot you like’a common thief.” “I know that the idea of a murder does not frighten you,Monsieur," sneered Vic? tor, “but allow me to tell you that your threat does not frighten me in the least. This lady is my affianced wife before God. I swear to you that she shall be my wife before’ the world and that the obstacles which you may place between us will only have the effect of increasing our mutual affection." “My authority over, my daughter is nothing to you, I suppose?” yelled the Count, coming closer to Victor and assuming a threatening attitude. “The law fixes a limit to the authority of parents over their children,"replied Victor, in a calm but ironical tone, “add that limit will soon be reached." “The law, the law," hissed De Chauvannes, contemptuously. “I have never known any other laws than my own will. For whom do you take me? If I had ever given you the hope of being united to my daughter—though such a marriage might be considered as a mesalliance—it is because I took you to be a man of honor, who would not suffer all those lawyers to molest me (or a lot of old and forgotten stories; but instead of defending me you have become 1

my accuser! Heneeforth we are strangers, enemies if you like it better. I have warned you. You will have to give up Marcelllne or that ridiculous lawsuit.” “Neither the one nor the other,” said Victor, calmly. “Mademoiselle de Chauvannes will be my wife, and Michel Gouillard’s name will be reinstated in public opinion. And now, monsieur, as you entered my house to play the spy and the eavesdropper, I order you to leave it instantly. This interview is at an end. Go, Marcelllne; trust me and fear nothing." “You cannot Insult me, plebeian!” growled the Count, as he turned away, leading his daughter by the hand. Victor hod built upon the Count accepting his terms, and now that, they had been rejected with a show of righteous indignation, the young lawyer saw that he must change his plan of attack. To save Marcelllne, he must not make public the damning intrigue between her mother and De Varville. He must ask for a revision of Gouillard’s trial upon other evidence. What should it be? Shutting him-elf up in his workroom, hF deliberated for several hours upon a new problem of acting, and while so occupied his servant announced that a client desired to see him. It was Michel Gouillnri —not the wretched-looking vagabond who a short week ago had crept like a felon. Which he had just ceased to be, into Victor’s office, but a clean and soberly clad man of 50, pale but culm and self-possessed. In well-chosen language he spoke, his heart-felt thanks for that devotion to his cause which bad not only rescued his daughter from a life of shame, but had procured employment lor him, and in the meantime supplied his most pressing wants. The young lawyer smiled and motioned Michel to be seated. “Do you not think,” he queried, “that ‘The Hag’ played an important part in this business’ ’’. “I am thoroughly convinced she did. monsieur,” answered Gouillard. “She was always playing the spy about my place. And she it must have been who took from the cupboard the little carbine which I had not used for the last three years, and which was found after the crime; and she it was who poisoned my dear wife. I’m certain of it." “We must make her confess,” said the lawyer, in an undertone. “Ah, if we only could; but how?" asked Michel. “Did you not tell me,” continued Victor, “that your daughter Esther is marvelously like her mother?" “As like as it is possible for two human beings to be.” “Good!" said Victor; “to-night we’ll lAJI* “TRUST ME AND FEAR NOTHING." have Esther make a visit to Jeannette, •The Hag,'who has not seen her since she was a babe, and claim to be Huguette's spirit. Terrified by the apparition, the beldam will cry out for mercy, and then Esther nUy charge her with having sent an innocent man to prison, and call upon her to make full confession, if she would save her immortal soul from gehenna.” The plan succeeded admirably, and when Esther exclaimed in a threatening voice, “If you try to hide a single thing, if you endeavor to tell a single lie, I will come back to you. Do you hear? Do you hear? I will cotao back,” “The Hag,” beside herself with fear, uttered a stifled yell and sank to the ground. The trial of Jeannette, “The Hag," was rushed through with a haste hardly in keeping with judicial dignity. The authorities suddenly admitted their error in having consigned Michel Gouillard to a felon’s cell for twenty long years for a crime he never committed. With a devotion bordering upon religious zeal “The Hag" took upon herself the double crime for which Michel Gouillard had been convicted, and the Count de Chauvannes in his testimony, with no quiver upon his lips and no tremor in his voice, spoke of the woman’s “fanatical devotion to him,” and besought the mercy of the jury for this old family servant. A few days after, after entering upon her term of ten years solitary confinement, “The Hag” was found dead in her bed. < True to his threat, the Count now resolved to put as many barriers as possible between his daughter and Victor D’Aubry, the first being to leave France for Southern Europe, taking his daughter with him, in hopes that new scenes and new acquaintances and the glitter of court life might lead her to forget the plain country gentleman. But a year later, by a fall from his horse while hunting, his leg was broken, and amputation became necessary. The Count survived the amputation but a fortnight, and Marcelllne returned to France and shut herself up in the old chateau with no other companion than an aged relative for whom she had sent. She never went beyond the entrances of the park, her longest walks being to the game-keeper’s lodge, where, at her express wish, Michel Gouillard and his daughter had taken up their quarters. Victor and his mother paid her constant visits. The past was never mentioned, all their thoughts dwjjlt upon the future. Finally, at the expiration of a twelvemonth, the fair chatelaine and the magistrate soon were united in matrimony by the village priest In the family chapel. The marriage took place at midnight, before the altar flooded with light and smothered with flowers, the witnesses being Jules Dupin, a schoolmate, and Michel Gouillard, the whilom convict In name only, who was Victor’s first and last client. |THE ENO. | Copyright, by the Authors' Alliance. Household Hints. When sponge cake gets dry it Is very nice cut in thin slices and toasted. To purify the airof a newly painted room put.several tubs of water in it, and it will absorb much of the odor. The best way when hot grease has been spilled on a floor is to dash cold water over it, so as to harden It quickly and prevent its striking into the boards. Ingenuity is always busy with little devices to ornament the dinner table. The latest novelty is a corrugated paper collar to cover the burned edges of pudding dishes. It will fit any size, and make pretty for the table the dish that comes hot from the oven.

RAISING WHEAT IN INDIA. that Far-Off Country Making Giant Stmlm n In l‘r«gr®«. Among the formidable rivals to the United States in the wheat industry Inala holds a high place; one that the introduction of modern machinery and commercial facilities will, doubtless, in the course of time, render still more dangerous. The area under cultivation in the season of 1890-1 was reported at 2(1,500,000 acres, and the yield 6,842,000 tons. This, too, in the face of disadvantages that, to our own notions, would render the industry almost impracticable. The extent of this most interesting country is, in round numbers, about 1.900 by 1,500 miles, equaling the United States east of the Mississippi River. Os this, the northwest provinces, comprising over 100,000 square miles, are the best adapted to wheat culture, but little being raised south of the 25th parallel. The chief advantages to the wheat raisers of India are the climate and i the cheap labor. The former is i claimed to be the most favorable in tlic world for agricultural produces, the seasons being so arranged that two train crops can be grown each ' year, in addition to an intermediate' season for frujl, for vegetables, and : 1 sugar cane. The first grain season I begins about the Middle of .lune, the , crop then sown being harvested in i September and October, and followed i by another that, in turn, is ready for the sickle in March and April. Krom | this harvest until June is the dry season, during which the farmer; turns his attention mainly from the . field crops to his garden prodine. ; These changes of season are so grad-. ual that there Is no attendant loss in their transition, and they are very regular in their passage. The heat and moisture decompose all vegetable and animal refuse, giving the agriculturist the benefit of immediate returns for all fertilizers. The average native of India is far too poor to import or buy fertilizer or to own the requisite amount of stock to keep«his land in Its normal con- ; dition. Nature and his own instincts of practical economy here come to his assistance and render easy what the majority of our American farmers would probably regard as an impossibility. Every form of fertilizers of the least value is utilized, regardless of the labor involved, and the natural provisions of the atmosphere and climate are drawn upon to the utmost There is none of the hurry and half' preparation seen there that the use of machinery is so apt to introduce. Their plows are of the rudest construction, but before the field is finished, it is p’ut in perfect condition for the seed. Eight or ten times plowing tor each crop is per-' haps the rule, though twenty is not uncommon, and even thirty sometimes heard of. The result is an exposure of earth many times to the Stion of the atmospnere (which by e way, is always more or less laden with plant food, and especially so in hot climates), and its conversioa into ■ a seed bed that could hardly be sur- ■ passed. ’ The air of India, too, is filled with J myriads of insects, many visible; ini finitely more invisible to the naked , eye. As surely as the air.jtseif is i turned into and mixed with the ! ground, time after time, is its con--1 stant load of animal life aeposited. To the cheapness of labor which makes , such thoroughness possible, nature ’ gives much unseen aid, thus making it : possible to produce fair harvests on a ' soil of which it is said that if taken > to Minnesota and subjected to the usual treatment of wheat land there, it would hardly be worth cultivating; and that, on the other hand, the Min- ’ nesota soil, if intioduced into India, . could all be sold as a fertilizer. • • Such are the natural advantages > and drawbacks of wheat culture in ' India; the disadvantage in the soil being apparently counterbalanced by J the superior seasons and climate. Os ; the artificial appliances I will now t speak, prefacing the description with , the remark that among them all • there is hardly one but would be con- • sidered a complete drawback to suct cessful culture in this country. Yes, ’ it is possible that the very crudeness of the implements used forms, above ' all else, an inducement to such a r method of thoroughness in culture as alone makes the effort of any avail. It is not improbable that the introduction of modern machinery into the hands of these primitive, uncul1 tured people, in their present condition and circumstances, would thwart ! the very purposes it would be in- , tended to serve.—Northwestern Miller. i Canning in France %nd 'America. i “You should have a lawMn Ameri ica such as we have in France,” said 1 T. B. Kirkland of Bordeaux, France, 1 to a St. Louis Globe-Democrat re--1 porter. “By our laws such a thing j as lead poisoning in canned goods is , an Impossibility. Here it is a very ■ great probability. Our system is s known as the outside solder system, and it is utterly impossible for the ’ lead to come in contact with the ’ goods. Your system is all inside 1 solder. When the can is first opened the goods should be used right away. i Some people, however, use a portion of the contents and permit the balance to remain standing over night. Now, immediately the can is opened [ and the air strikes it a change takes place in the tin and lead, and where i the goods are allowed to stand in the open can the chances for lead poisoning are very great. In canning fruits and vegetables in this country you pursue a very different plan from the French. Our cans have but one piece of soldering. That is qn the outside and down the front, where the can is joined. When the can is filled a light elastic band is placed inside. Then the top is milled to the can by. machinery. It is then placed in the steam bath and allowed to cook for twenty minutes or half an hour, and sometimes as much as forty minutGs, according to the goods. The air escapes through the elastic band and the pores of the can. In Apierica the soldering of the can is all on the insida When it is filled the top is soldered on and then it is placed in the steam bath. Instead of being allowed to remain as with us, vourcans are never in the bath over live minutes. Then the top is punctured with an awl, and the air rushes out. After the air has escaped the hole in

' the top Is covered with a drop of sol-dor,'-which must naturally come in contact with the goods. Fruits that are canned with the pits, such as prunes and cherries, you can buy very cheap at this time ot the year, as they are very apt to ferment. But they are not very good as a rule.” Philadelphia—a Cl«y ot Home.. Stales and cities exist to make families comfortable, iiecau.se this maxes children comfortable. Unless the children are comfortable now, the next generation will fare ill. If you, my dear boy and girl, who are reading this page, are comfortably seated; if you have light enough on these lines; if the air about you is pure; if you find the house you are in a true home, be it large or small; ts you are not told every time you jump not to make too much noise, or the people above or below will object; if the street is safe for you at all hours of the day or evening; it it is, as nearly as may be, like a village street, quiet and clean, and not like a city {street, noisy and noisome: If there is room for you to play outside the house, and room Inside its walls to amuse you; if you are fed and warm, : and happy—above all, if you feel in j your house an atmosphere of security, and understand in a dim way that 1 father and mother own the spot called home and are safe there, then, las far as you are concerned, —the ! United States is a success. Unless I there are a great many more of you i children enjoying all I have said than ! arc without such comforts, then the { United States is a failure, no matter i how big, or how rich, or how popui lous it may be, or hot glorious its I history. The United States is here I first, and chiefly, not to make history, as you might imagine from your school histories, but to make families and their children comfortable in houses of their own. Failing to do that, it fails in all. This is just as true of cities as it is of countries. Their first business is to make children comfortable. The only way to make children comfortable is to make families comfortable; i and the best way to make families comfortable is to put each in a separate house which it owns. As far as a city succeeds in doing this, it succeeds as a city. As far as it fails in doing this, it fails as a city. If the families of a city are cramncd and crowded, if each lives in a house it does not own, and dreads rent-day; it it sees the sky only through a window pane, and has neither roof nor yard it calls its own: if it has to i share its staircase and doorway with I other families—and the staircase was never built which is broad enough for two families; if the street is not a family street, and the seething and turbid tide of city life wells and swells past its door, then neither the ! family nor the children will be comfortable. The city has failed. —Sb Nicholas. Air-Slacked Lime for Cure till a. The only well accepted and effectual remedy that I have seen given in your valuable paper as a preventive of the attack of the curculio on the plum, is daily jarring the trees, catching the little pests in sheets prepared for that purpose and destroying them. About six years ago I tried this plan, first inserting iron plugs half an inch i in diameter in each of the limbs of . my trees that were large enough to take the plug, but it proved too much df a job, my trees being very large. I then tried dusting them thoroughly 1 with air-slacked lime, which was a ' perfect success. 1 picked that year from eight trees over forty bushels of plums. Four of the trees were Martha Washington Gage and the other four the Egg Gage. 1 have a 12-foot step-ladder, and when the blossoms begin to fall and just after a rain or early in the morning when there is a heavy dew, I take a basket ot airi slaked lime (first tying a handkerchief around my head over nose and mouth to avoid inhaling the lime dust), mount the ladder, and with ' my hand or a garden trowel 1 throw the lime on and through the branches of the trees until they are perfectly white; the leaves and fruit being wet or damp, the lime adheres to them like whitewash. Should a rain come and wash it off I give them another i dose, and keep it up until the fruit large to lie injured. My trees never failed to bloom profusely, but until I began toapplv the lime the curculio took all the fruit I have also found air-slaked lime a preventive of the ravages of the rose bug on grapes.—Country Gentleman. Make More of Fico. Dealers in rice would greatly inJ crease the consumption of this food I if, through the food expositions, or | in other ways, they would show the ; American people in how many ways ■ rice may be prepared for use. Wheat i is our great cereal, and it enters into I thousands of toothsome and delicious j articles, while rice is made up in onlyi about, half a dozen different ways by the English speaking peoples. It is, ' however, an elegant substitute for I potatoes, with fowl, fish, and meats, ‘ and in India is made into the most delicious cakes and articles of confectionery. It is a staple food of hundreds of millions of the human race, and a little popular education as to its capabilities and value as a food would soon double its consumption in this country. Ancient Bridal -Wreaths. The Roman bridal wreath was of verbena, plucked by the bride herself. Holly wreaths were sent as tokens of congratulations, and wreaths of parsley and rue were given under a belief that they were effectual preservatives agaihst evil spirits. The' hawthorn was the flower which formed the wreaths of Athenian brides. At the present day, m our own county, the bridal wreath is almost entirely composed ot orange-blossoms, on a background of maiden-hair fern, a sprig here and thereof stepbanotis blending its exquisite fragrance. s[uch uncertainty exists as to why this ' blossom has been so much worn by brides, but the general opinion seems to !>e that it was adopted as an em. blem ot fruitfulness. The I iji Islands. When anyont dies in the Fiji Is- , lands a whale’s tooth is placed in the j hands ot the corpse, the missile to be thrown at a tree, which stands as a j guidepost to point, the road to Heaven ; and the toad that leads to the realms | of his Satanic Majesty.

AST Merryman’S FACTORY You can get all kinds of Hard and Soft Wood, Siding, Flooring, Brackets,. Molding, Odd-Sized Sash and Doors. In fact all kinds of building ma terial either made or furnished on short notice. Erie Lines. ■ schedule In effect No«. 13. Tralnn Leave Decatur an Follows TRAINS WEST. No. 5. Vestibule Limited, daily for I 314 t> y Chicago and the west > No. 3. Pacific Express, daily fori O . T - M ' Chicago and the west ) . No. 1. Express, daily for Chicago Do jo p y and tne west.. I No. 31. Local...’. }lO 35 A. M TRAINS HAST. No. 3. Vestibule Limited, daily for 1 p M New York and Boston f ‘- 00 r - OT - No. 12, Express, daily for New I i :jo A M York f No. 2. Accommodation, daily ex-1 208 P M oept Sunday f No. 30. Local >10:35 A. M. J. W. DeLong, Agent. Frank M. CaldweU, D. P. A. Huntington, Ind.; F. W. Buskirk, A. G. P. A.. Chicago, 111. LOOK HERE! I am here to stay and can sell Organs and Pianos cheaper than anybody else can afford to sell them. I sell different makes. CLEANING AND REPAIRING done reasonable Bee me first and mtw money. JT. T. COOTB,Deoatur, Ind, £ Scientific American Agency TRADE MARKS, L - OESICN PATENTS, st® COPYRIGHTS, etc. For Information and free Handbook write to MUNN * CO., aa Broadway, Nkw York. Oldest bureau for securing patents in America. Every patent taken out by us is brought before the public by a notice given free of charge in the f twttfific American Larvect circulation of any scientific I*P«rta the world. Splendidly illustrated. No intelligent man should be without it. ▼ear: fl-50 six months. Address MUNN A COw Pubt-tsher-k, 361 Broadway, New York City.

The Lyon & Healy Organ Is the best and most salable Organ of the Day Organs sold on Installment Payments at Low Figures. . SJExVD LOR CATALOGUE. Fred K. Shafer, Agt. BERNE. IND. GRANGE BLOSSOM ■ —— - A POSITIVE CURE FOR •••-■• ■ ' V°« ALL female diseases. >j.'oo®a Onur nr TUC CVUDTfiUQ. a tiled, languid feeling, low spirited and despondent, with no apparent uUMt Ul I lit OIWII lUmv’ cause. Headache, rains in the back, pains across the lower-part of bowels. Great soreness in region of ovaries, Bladder difficulty, Frequent urinations, Leucorrhoea, bowels, and with all these symptoms a terrible nervous feeling is experienced by the pauent. iHt ukaaul BLOSSOM TREATMENT removes all these by a thorough process of absorption. Internal remedies will never remove female weakness. There must be remedies applied right to the parts. and then there is permauent relief obtained. EVERY LADY CAN TREAT HERSELF. O B Pile Remedy. I *I.OO for one month’s treatment. 10. B. Stomach Powders. Ch B. Catarrh Cure. I —prepared by— rs) I O. B. Kidney Cones. J. A. McCILL, M.D.,& CO., 4 panorama place. Chicago, ill TOR SAI.K W Holthouse & Blackburn. Decatur. Ask for Descriptive Circulars. HOFFMAN & GOTTSCHALK Keep a full line of Drugs, Patent Medicines, Paints, Oils, Groceries, Lamps, Tobaccos, .Cigars, and a general stock of Merchandise. Prescriptions carefully compounded. LINN GROVE, IND. Wfe ft At Magley, keeps a large stock of Dry |Ar||AAA Goods, Notions, Groceries, Boots, Shoei and in fact everything kept in a general ■ store. Buys all kinds ot Country Produce Illi HllU or which the highest market price is paid. MB 3 BPw J ten guarantee to euro all nervous diseases, such as Weak Memory, lu Bfi Loilof Brainpower, Headache, Wnktlulneis, LoitMaafSw VI JW hood, Nightly Emissions, Quickness. Evil Dream*, Lack of >- A / I Confidence, Aervsusueu, Eassltude, all dra/in3 and loss of \ power of the Generative Organs in either sex by over exer« 1 won, youthful errors, or excessive use of tobacco, opium or stlmu* A , JgffjjUants which soon lead to Intirmity. Consumption and Insanity. Ihal convenient to carry In vest pocket. Sent by mull in plain package address for SI, or 6 for So With every S 3 order we fibre a written guarantee to cure «r refund the money.) BEFOKE AMD AFTER USING. For Sale by W. H. Nachtrieb, Druggist, Decatur, Ini

Grand Rapids & Indiana Railroad Trains run on Central Standard Time, M utee slower than Columbus or former Uma. Took effect tonday. Deo. 13.1M8. GOING NORTH. STATIONS. No. 1 ' No. 3 No. 6 No. T Cincinnati..lve ... 8 05am 910 pm Richmond 2 20pm 110 M.. 11 « Winchester ... 3 17. 1115.5 .. 1243 am ........ Portland 4 04. I2.ispm 133 Decatur 510 1131 .. 220 Ft. Wayne... arr 600. 2 15.. 300 •• •• ...lye 235 . 320 306 am Kendallville 3 41 4 25 » 10 .. Rome City 3 56.. 4 41).. 9 26.. Wolcottville 4 01 9 31 .. Valentine 4 11 9 42.. laGrango 4 19.. 5 05.. 961.. Lima 429 1006 .. Sturgis 440. 526. 1019.. Vicksburg AM 650 . 11 09.. Kalamazoo, arr 6 05 .. 1140*.. •• ~lve 4 20nm 0 25.. 9 00.. 1235 pm Gr. Rapids..arr 645 .. 810 .. .... .. 230.- " - ~lve 7 20. 10 10.. HOpmUiS.. D..G.H.&M.cr 10 45.. 727 A.. Howard City 11 50 8 41 X. Blgßapids 1236 am 9 45.. ......J, Reed City. .... 10(1 !. ....... Cadillac arrl 1130.. 2 05.. 510 •• ....Ive' 230 9 10 .. Traverse Qlty.! 7 Wipm Kalkaska I I 3 48 PctoskO-, I 635 .. 915 Mackinac Cltv. 1... ...I 8i»). . IPX, GOING SOUTH. STATIONS. No. 2 No. 6 I No. 4 | Nol 8 ' j_ . —. Mackinac City ' 715 pm . 4i>atn 200pm' ~. ... Petoskey 9 10. ,9 20 .3 45.. Kalkaska 1236.. 11130.. j 5 02.. I Traverse City 1110.. 4 1.0.. ........ Cadillac ...arr 2 20am 115pmi 7l»l j 805 am •• Ive 215 . 135 .. 850 pm 810 .. . Reed City 1328 .. i 230 .. |750 .. 900 .. Big Rapids 1400..■258.. 1825 .. 945 Howard City. 45. V. 343 .. 920 .. |1032*.. D. G.H.&M.cr 605 .. I 605 .. 10 25 .. 1135 .. Gr. Rapids arr 6 3') .. 515 .. 11 00 .. 150 ». " " ..Ive 7 00.. 61)0 .. 11120 .. 200pm Kalamazoo.arr! 850 .. 800 .. 1255am|i 340., ..Ivel 855 805 .. ..... .1 345 ~ Vieksburg 9 24 8 33 4 12.. Sturgis 10 19 ... 926 .. 1 505 .. Lima .110 32 .. 940 .. 517 .. LaGrange... . ,10 44 .. 952 .. 529 .. Valentine 11053 .. 10 02 .. 5~ ~ Wolcottville...(ito4 .. 1014 547.. Rothe City 1109 .. [ 10 19 52 .. Kendallville .. II 25 .. 1039 666 .. Ft. Wayne..arr,l24opm!ll 50 715 .. " “ ..Ive: 100.. 1258 am 5 45am., Decatur 1146.. 12 58.. 8 30.. Portland 240 ... 155 .. 730 W inchester.... 317 .. 236 .. 809 Richmond 4 20.. 3 40.. 915 Cincinnati 700 .1 655 IlSolnm Trains 5 and 6 run daily between Grand Rapids and Cincinnati. C, L. LOCKWOOD, Gen. Pass. Agent JEFF. BRYSON. Agent. Decatur, Ind First Clau Night and Day Servioa batwaaa Toledo, Ohio, St. Louis, Mo. FREE CHAIR CARS DAY TRAINS—MODERN EQUIPMENT THROOCHODT. vestibuleFsleeping cars ON NIGHT TRAINeJ ta-MEALS SERVED EH ROUTE, any *aer, SAT OR NISHT, at modtrat, cost. Ask for ticket* tii Toledo, St. Louio A Unm City A A Clover Leaf Route. For further particular*, call on nearwfi Agent of tbo Company, or addreM O. Or JENKINS, TOLEDO. OHIA W. L. DOUCLAS S 3 SHOE CENTLENIEN. And other specialties sos Gentlemen, Ladies, Boys and Misses are the Best in the World. See descriptive advertise* dent which will appear in Take no Substitute, but insist on having VV, L. DOUGLAS’ SHOES,with name au 'l P r^ce on bottom. Sold by For Sale by Henry Whines, Second door West of Adams County Bank, Monroe St.